The Favour of Men

For the past few weeks, I have been dealing with an issue with my WAEC date of birth. One tiny error meant I had to update almost every official document I own. It has had me moving from office to office, getting lost and finding my way again almost every Eke market day.

The frustrating part is that everything had to be sorted before my exams. And if you've ever tried correcting an error in Nigeria, you already know the drill. It takes time, the process is tedious, and by the end of it, you're stressed out.

I had already gone through several major stages of the process. Today was the final one, my JAMB change of data.

Now, I had heard all sorts of horror stories about the JAMB office in Benin. Stories of people arriving by 7 a.m only to leave by 8 p.m, stories of endless queues, frustration, and wasted days. Naturally, I dreaded going.

It didn't help that I woke up around 6am, when I should have been leaving by 6:30. To make matters worse, I almost got lost again, for what felt like the hundredth time this semester. Thankfully, I found my way and eventually got there, heart pounding, praying the queue wouldn't be too long.

Imagine my surprise when I walked in and there wasn't a single queue.

Not one, i honestly couldn't believe it. Now, I had prayed. In fact, I'd confidently told my friends that my case would be different. That even if everyone else met a queue, I wouldn't. I believed it, but I was still shocked when I stepped into an almost empty office.

I sat down as instructed, and shortly after, one of the staff asked why I was there. I explained my issue and something unexpected happened. It genuinely felt like I found favour with this man.

He asked for my details and immediately prioritised my request, even though he had been working on something else before I arrived.

Then came the compliments. He told me I had beautiful teeth, which, if I may say so myself, is true. He commented on my firm handshake. Before long, almost everyone in the office had something kind to say. Some complimented my smile, others my dark skin, others simply said they liked the way I spoke.

At some point, he mentioned to his colleagues that I was Urhobo, and suddenly everyone was chatting with me and joking around. One of them even went to buy snacks and got some for me too, I couldn't make sense of it.

At first, I jokingly thought, Maybe this is pretty girl privilege.

But the more I reflected on it, the more I realised it was bigger than that, an entire office full of strangers chose kindness,that wasn't luck, that was the favour of God.

I got there around 9am and before noon, I was done. No stress, no shouting.

I was seated comfortably beside a fan. When I realised I hadn't brought one of the required documents, they simply extracted it from my phone. The extra steps I thought I'd have to do myself, printing, uploading, and all the little technicalities, they handled them for me, it was seamless.

Without question, it was the easiest day I've had since this entire document correction journey began. I'm simply grateful to God.

When I told people who had been there before about my experience, they couldn't believe it. According to them, nobody leaves that office happy. You either go home angry, exhausted, or frustrated.

Me? I went home excited and well fed too😂

Dearest reader, this experience got me thinking about something. The power of our words, and the danger of accepting other people's experiences as our own.

Will I always be the exception Probably not, it felt like a miracle.

But when I heard all those stories about the JAMB office, I refused to accept them as my reality. I kept saying, "It won't be my case."

Now, there is an unhealthy extreme where people become self righteous and believe nothing bad can ever happen to them. That's not what I'm talking about.

I'm talking about refusing to let someone else's experience become the script you automatically expect for your own life, we do this all the time.

People say relationships are hard, so we enter ours expecting pain.

People say men are liars, so we assume every man we meet will lie.

People say a particular course is impossible to pass, so we fail it in our minds before writing the first test.

Sometimes, the stories we inherit become the realities we unconsciously create.

Don't misunderstand me, people's experiences are valid, and sometimes they can prepare us. But preparation is different from surrender. Don't let someone else's difficult experience become the ceiling over your expectations.

You can thrive where someone else struggled, you can succeed at what almost broke another person.There isn't one script for everyone.

And sometimes, just sometimes, favour rewrites the entire story.

Selah.

@favvy_Okwans🖤.